He Returns to him in Battle: PostFic Vignettes
by Laureen Lycan
Summary: If Ghirahim was a loyal and dedicated servant, he was surely a responsible and conscientious owner. Vignettes following my other story, He Returns to Him in Battle. This won't make sense unless you've read that. He Returns to Him in Battle is now censored on this site, please see my profile for details.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Welcome everyone, to the first post-He Returns to Him in Battle vignette. These chapters are follow ups to my other work, He Returns to Him in Battle, which may be found in (now) censored form on this website, and in complete form on my Deviant Art profile under "laureen-lycan" at: _

_laureen-lycan dot deviantart dot com slash gallery_

_These are in no particular order, though I'll try to make it obvious where in the timeline these are set. _

_For He Returns fans, __I know this is short, but my creative energies aren't what they were when I had more time, and I wrote this tonight, and thought I should post it._

* * *

**Unmitigated Reality**

When I awoke, I immediately became assaulted by a dense, smothering fog of disorientation. The harsh, holy light streaming in through the windows blinded my visage, and the coarse bedclothes underneath me seemed hostile, grating against my naked, recently slumbering form.

As my disjointed, frenetic thoughts strained to coagulate, my hands reached up as of their own accord and began rubbing my stunned eyes, shielding them protectively from the light to which I seemed so unaccustomed.

When I lowered my palms – now smooth and uncalloused – I turned my eyes to my surroundings, expecting to be greeted by the lavish furniture of my chamber in the Demon Realm.

I was instead assailed by the austere, spartan furniture of the cottage in the woods.

Unmitigated recollection.

I remembered, now, the events reeling through my stricken mind in reverse chronology: Zelda showing me the cottage, running into the Surface immigrants from Skyloft, waking up in the forest near the Grounds, and that last, agonizing encounter with Ghirahim...

At the thought of my demon, my fingers protested at the intensity which they now clutched the rough bedsheets, so different in quality from the silken silver and crimson bedclothes to which I'd grown accustomed.

I inhaled, the pure, energizing air an essence that was now foreign to me, ragged in my lungs' passages.

Seconds, minutes ticked away while I forcibly drank in my new, yet familiar, reality. The light of Hylia's realm continued to sear painfully against my vision.

It was with another shaking breath that I contemplated the necessity of returning to my life in the sunlit realm. As the Hero from the Sky. As one of Hyrule's destined leaders.

As Hylia's Chosen Knight, who must now forget he and the Demon Lord were anything but mortal enemies.

My fingernails pushed through the brittle fabric of my bedsheets, staining them with crimson tears.

I shut my eyes against the holy light, eyelids holding back iridescent drops that must never be shed.


	2. Wayward Wanderers

_A/N: Two updates in a week, w00t! _

_A bit different POV here. And I swear, I'll eventually get back to their time in the castle._

* * *

Wayward Wanderers

I watched him.

My pale and burnished silhouette framed within a camouflaging outcropping of the demolished Temple of Time, hiding my perfect sleek form amid the ruins that had witnessed one of his first actions of defiance against me.

I had – perhaps mistakenly, though I abhor admission of my own misguided misperceptions – believed that the boy's last words to me in my guest rooms were to symbolize his final act of revolt; one that would ultimately sever the bonds of the complex relationship that had unmistakably evolved over the course of our scintillating exchanges.

I was never one to take many pets, however rare the occasion I found myself suffering a deficiency of willing – or, immaterially, _unwilling,_ yet tempting and promising – sensual specimens.

And if I had been a talented and devoted servant to Demise, I am surely an even more responsible and attentive owner.

So I continued watching him, my sky child, even after he left my services.

I take care of my pets, after all.

Even those who mistakenly believe themselves liberated of my ownership. Even those who _I_ – and it leaves behind a poor taste indeed to admit it – had believed themselves freed of my bonds of sensual, charismatic dominion.

And being as responsible and attentive an owner as I am, I began to note in my observations of my former pet – as I do in this current excursion – the tension in the boy's shoulders during his midnight strolls through the scorched desert of Lanayru; the distant focus of those striking blue eyes of his, so much more potent and effervescent than they had been in my alien realm. I can detect his melancholy resignation – so different in kind from the desperate yearning that had characterized his previous obsession with locating me.

Yet still, underneath that unwilling abdication of his servile life in my castle, I detect...

...a thirst.

He pauses in scorched, lonely sands of the desert, and I feel the corners of my silver lips curling upwards, as he turns, unseeing, in my disguised direction.

_A pet always senses his master._

But he does not see me, as I've taken measures to ensure.

And yes, I think, as I watch, with no small satisfaction, his fist contracting with frustration, even as he forces a gloved hand through his blonde locks as he continues his search through the disguising desert drifts.

_A wayward pet will inevitably search for his master._

He thirsts_,_ I fully realize now, in a manner wholly unrelated to the punishing heat of the desert.

He thirsts, for the spiritual and carnal liberation and ecstasy only I can provide him.

I finalize my decision, and raise my elegantly clad hand to snap my fingers, disappearing back into my realm.

_A good master reclaims his wayward pets._

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_A/N: ...Please R/R. _


	3. Attempted Absconding

A/N: Good news! CASTLE AS PROMISED! Bad news: Incomplete chapter. I had more, but I decided it would be better showcased from Ghirahim's POV. Next full chapter will have...content. However, it won't be posted on this account. I'll post a partial chapter here, then will put the rest up on my Deviant Art. I'm going to rework it, then upload the acceptable parts onto here.

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Attempting Absconding

Forty-five degrees. That was about the angle of the radial circumference I needed to rotate the door handle to make my exit.

I bit my lip, the chill gold metal of the handle denying warmth from my hesitant, clammy hand.

I was still debilitatingly weak from the injuries. It was about three days since I had awoken in Ghirahim's guest chambers in the Demon Realm, and to my horror, the meager journey from my bed to the door exhausted me. I didn't dare wonder how weak I had grown since leaving the surface.

My muscles tightened up in protest at the sudden physical demands, and the still-healing knife wound throbbed painfully in my chest from the first real physical exertion I'd had in weeks. I closed my eyes tightly, forcing a much-needed oxygenating breath into my system.

I steeled my nerves – the door handle seemed to swing silently away from my body of its own accord.

I stepped out of the bedchambers to find myself in a cool, elegantly decorated hallway.

My bare feet tingled as they sunk into the luxurious silvery-blue carpet, the fibers catching between my naked toes.

I had searched the wardrobe in my room for my clothes, my trusted boots; but aside from some basic inventory items, I couldn't find any scrap of my clothing, and (to my great disturbance) not a sign of my weapons. Instead, I donned the light, comfortable clothing I found on the hangers before turning toward the egress.

I swallowed, forcing myself to let go of the doorknob for support. Turning in different directions, I picked a route to my right, and pushed my screaming body to begin traversing the halls of the castle.

I wasn't sure where I was going, really. But after that...intimate...experience with Ghirahim after awakening in his chambers, and the conversation we had about my visions of him on the Surface, I felt like I should do _something – _go somewhere, search for an exit, anything but stay imprisoned so helplessly in the gilded cage that was my lavish bedchamber.

I really wasn't sure what to think of...that...of _those_...moments with Ghirahim. In the last two days, I vacillated dramatically in my sentiments toward the encounter. I would lay awake in fear of the demon returning for a repeated carnal encounter – but then my breath would catch in my chest at the shattering prospect of never again experiencing such ecstatic heights of pure, exquisite surrender.

My head began throbbing with every step I took, and the pain in my chest was screaming in pure physiological opposition as I continued down the mocking, witnessing walls of the castle.

But I continued on, doggedly traversing the hallways with a determination I convinced myself was anything but aimless.

Regardless of what had happened, I wasn't some helpless, despondent creature. I had set out to pull the Demon Lord from the Shadows, and I had done so, and despite everything I may have done against the Goddess's interests in rescuing the right-hand servant of the Demon King, it wouldn't do for the Goddess's hero remain here, wistfully idle.

...Even though I felt a twinge of...something...at the idea of leaving.

Pressure, gritted teeth at this last realization.

_If only I didn't feel so dizzy..._

I turned a corner into a different passageway, and tried to blink the white mist from my vision.

_If only _he_ wasn't so... _

The blackout was incredibly gradual. As I allowed my traitorous body to slide down the wall into the plush carpet, I recalled the moments when he was taking me, driving himself into me as I lay helplessly in the intoxicating demon's lustful, possessive grip.

_If only I didn't..._

I drifted off, and the last thing I focused on was a white statue of the Demon Lord, poised and wearing attire I didn't recognize.

/

In what felt like moments later, my vision peered at the marble figure through narrow blue slits.

It seemed closer, I thought wearily.

"Fancied a little afternoon stroll, did we?" the statue asked.

Oh.


End file.
